


Holiday Inn

by Emelye



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Beginnings, Christmas, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-23
Updated: 2009-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-05 01:18:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emelye/pseuds/Emelye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being handcuffed to a chair in the Sunnydale precinct on Christmas Eve wasn't exactly how Xander had planned on spending his holiday, but it beat out the Drunken Harris Brawl of '94 by a strong margin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holiday Inn

Being handcuffed to a chair in the Sunnydale precinct on Christmas Eve wasn't exactly how Xander had planned on spending his holiday, but it beat out the Drunken Harris Brawl of '94 by a strong margin.

Of course, the handcuffs were a result of the Fire Department finding him chasing Spike around his front yard with a broadsword. And that was a result of Spike burning his house to the ground.

The festivities at Buffy's had been winding down and Xander was getting into his jacket when he noticed Spike standing outside near the streetlamp. Curiosity getting the best of him, he said his goodbyes and met him at the curb.

"Whatcha doin' out here fangless?"

Spike shuffled his feet and took a drag of his cigarette before dropping it and grinding it under his heel.

"Good party, then?" He asked.

Xander sighed irritably. "Look Spike, can't you give it a rest? Call a temporary cease-fire for Christmas at least?"

"M'not here to make trouble, Harris. Got somethin' to show you."

"Is this something going to result in my painful demise?"

Spike actually looked offended. "No! Bloody hell! Can't you just—oh, forget it. Don't know what I was thinking…"

"Spike, wait," Xander said, staying Spike before he could stalk off in high dudgeon. "What is it?"

Spike cut his eyes in a way that Xander had to remind himself probably meant something shady and not that he was actually bashful.

"Been thinkin'—bout what you an' Red said. Lookin' at the chip as an opportunity for a new start an' all."

Xander could appreciate the sentiment, but still doubted his sincerity. "What is it?"

"It's—um—a surprise. Back at your place."

Xander swore under his breath. "Dammit, I knew I should have revoked your invitation…"

"I didn't do anything, why can't you get that through your thick skull? Nothin' bad anyway. Heard you weren't one to celebrate the holidays much and thought—oh bollocks, do you want it or not?"

_Jesus, I think he's serious_. "Yeah, okay."

They walked in silence until Xander couldn't stand it any longer.

"So you're really turning over a new leaf, huh?"

Spike smirked. "Didn't say that, now did I? Just meant I wanted a fresh start. I'm evil, whelp. Can't change that. But a man has to learn to adapt if he wants to survive."

Xander snorted.

"Also, I'm not very good at being alone," Spike added quietly.

Xander nodded, because what _could_ he say to something like that? If Spike was telling the truth, it was kind of pathetic, and if he wasn't, Xander wasn't about to say anything that could be potentially incriminating at a later date.

That was the game you played with Spike. _Anything you say, can and will be used against you in the open court of your public humiliation._

It still took him a minute to process the smoke pouring from the basement windows when they rounded his street corner.

"What the—oh fuck!" Xander took off at a sprint for the backdoor.

"Harris! Wait!" Spike called after him. Xander stopped at the edge of his lawn and Spike caught him there. He whirled on the vampire, gathered the lapels of his coat in his fists and shook.

"My house! What the fuck did you do to my house?"

"I didn't! I—it wasn't supposed to do that!"

"Do what? What in the hell were you trying to do, Spike?"

Spike didn't get a chance to answer. Xander dropped him and stalked off unnoticed by his parents drunkenly milling about the front yard in their bathrobes, grabbed his duffle bag from the back of his Uncle Rory's Taurus that was now his by merit of being the one-man, Harris family tax shelter, and reached for the first weapon at hand. A broadsword.

"Do you know what this is, Spike? This is what I'll be sleeping with for the foreseeable future. Because I'M NOW HOMELESS ON THE GODDAMN HELLMOUTH!"

From there it was kind of a blur of murderous rage and flashing lights.

Fortunately, his family declined to press charges pending the results of the fire investigation.

Xander rose as the cop unlocked the handcuffs, and left.

* * *

  
Spike was waiting for him outside. Xander ignored him.

"Harris wait—"

"Save it. I knew you were full of shit. God, I'm such an idiot."

"Xander…"

"Just—why? What did I ever—was it the chair? Was it tying you to the fucking chair, cause, believe me, I don't think a night or two in the barcalounger – which is now fried to a fucking crisp – really compares with _burning my fucking house down_!"

"I just wanted to give you a nice Christmas."

"You—what?"

"I didn't mean to burn your bloody house down. S'just, well, that bloody bastard at the tree lot _told_ me it was fresh cut but—and the candles, never had a single accident in thirty years but I reckon the trees were fresher then. 'Spect the paper chains may have been badly placed. Mother always took care of that bit."

Xander gaped. "You tried—I—Christmas tree?"

Spike looked at his feet dejectedly. "Took me all bloody day."

"Why? Why me?"

"What do you mean, why? You're the bloody heart, ain't you? Sure Red sees the logic in bringing me into the fold, reckon the Watcher wants to pick my brain an the Slayer has no problem putting me on the front line, but what 'ave you got to gain from my joining up?"

"Apparently a large insurance settlement."

"Not what I meant."

"I know."

"Red's got her mojo now and the Slayer's got her soldier boy. Pretty hard to keep playing the White Knight if I'm joining the fray."

"Wow, this is some pep talk."

"You've got the heart, Harris. You've got no motive but to fight the good fight an' you'll always have the lay of the land where good an' evil are concerned. I can win over the others because they can look at me and see power they can use. You look at me an' see evil that can harm you."

"That's—"

"Smart. I am evil. And if I want your trust I have to show you what I have to offer."

"And that is?"

"A friend. Just so happens, I'm in the same market. Most vamps don't give a toss for loyalty. But you do, don't you Harris?"

Xander looked hard at Spike. Spike's story was ridiculous, and yet entirely plausible. Not that it'd be hard to vet with the fire investigator digging through the rubble. Xander could only imagine how the large quantity of liquor in the house must have served as a handy accelerant. Now everything he had was gone. Xander signed resignedly.

"It's obviously done a lot for me. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to see if Father Jeff will put me up for the night."

"Don't want to do that, whelp. That shelter is an all night vamp buffet."

"I'm not bugging my friends at eleven at night on Christmas Eve. It's that or a bench in Central Park."

"Come back to the crypt then."

Xander snorted. "Said I'm not bugging my friends tonight. Go home Spike."

"Harris—"

"I get that you were trying to do something nice, I'm not going to hold that against you, but I really just need this day to be over."

"A motel then. Least I can do."

"Why are you pushing this so hard?"

"I don't mean for everything I touch to turn to shit—let me fix this. Please."

Spike honestly looked desperate and it was confusing and strange.

"Fine. Whatever, let's just go."

Xander didn't say anything when instead of the Sunnydale Motor Lodge he got a room at the Holiday Inn Sunnydale. If Spike wanted to spend his hard stolen money on putting him up in the only three star establishment in town, that was his choice. He was a little surprised that Spike followed him onto the elevator and down the hall to the room.

It felt weirdly like he was being walked to his door after a date and Xander decided to deal with that before he was fiddling with his keycard at the door like Cordy waiting for a kiss.

"You staying or leaving?" he asked. Spike seemed startled by the question. Xander snorted. For Christ's sake, he was the one who'd lost his house, why the hell did Spike look so shell shocked?

"Um, dunno. I should probably, I mean, I guess you don't want…"

_Lord, save me from repentant vampires._ "Come in, Spike. You paid for the double room, you might as well stay for the cable and honor bar."

Spike just nodded and followed him across the threshold.

* * *

  
Two hours in, they were seated side by side, watching Jimmy Stewart run through the streets of Bedford Falls when it dawned on Xander that Spike really seemed to dig on Christmas.

"You're really into this, aren't you?"

"S'a good movie."

"Not that. Christmas. Why?"

Spike sneered. "Why do you sleep outside on Christmas?"

Xander frowned and stood up before making his way over to the mini-bar and withdrawing an armful of tiny bottles.

"Mainly? To avoid getting hit in the crossfire. Here, catch," he said, tossing Spike a miniature bottle of Tanqueray.

He caught it deftly, opened it and downed it in one smooth gesture. "Cheers. Thought your folks seemed a bit in their cups tonight."

Xander nodded thoughtfully before grimacing as the bottled shot of whiskey burned his throat. "Gah. Don't know how he manages to put down a fifth of that."

"Toss 'em here, then. 'Spect you're more of a vodka man."

Xander handed Spike what remained of the Jack, Jim and Johnny and warily examined the Absolut. "Think maybe I'll stick to the ten dollar candy bars until my tongue stops burning."

Spike downed the whiskey, one bottle after the other. "Not near enough to get buzzed on," he commented.

Xander shrugged. "The downside of being a super-powered creature of the night, I guess."

Spike snorted. "Wish I _could_ get blitzed. Fuckin' hate this holiday."

That made Xander pause. "I'm confused."

"Christmas was all right enough when I was human, but for the things that would have made it _really_ decent – no one dyin', someone to spend it with, or shag, at any rate, food that wasn't as like to kill you as keep you living. Yeah, the traditions were good an' all, but it's supposed to be about more than that, ain't it?"

"Family," Xander slurred then snorted in disgust.

"Got that, though, don't you pet," said Spike quietly. "Got Joyce an the Slayer and Red an all the little strays you managed to pick up."

"Like you?" Xander smirked.

Spike looked down.

Xander suddenly got it. "This hotel have room service?"

Spike seemed confused by the non sequitur. "'Spect so, why?"

Xander grinned and grabbed for the packet by the phone, cradling the receiver between his neck and shoulder as he flipped through for the menu.

Twenty minutes later, Spike stood slack-jawed as an attendant wheeled in a cart covered in the most bizarre holiday spread imaginable. Onion rings, deep-fried, cheese-smothered jalapeños, Buffalo wings, shrimp cocktail, and hot-fudge Sundays. Xander pulled two beers from the fridge and handed one to spike before fingering a prawn and dripping cocktail sauce on his shirt.

"Christmas dinner is served, man. Dig in," Xander admonished.

Without waiting for further instruction, Spike did just that, lifting the lid off the steaming tray of onion rings and slapping Xander's hand away when he reached for one.

Xander wasn't terribly hungry, and Spike didn't even need to eat, but without examining it too closely, he suspected this might have been among the better holiday feasts he remembered ingesting. He picked up another jalapeño popper and chewed thoughtfully, following it with a swig of beer when the hotel stationary caught his eye. An idea formed.

"Hang on…" he muttered, jumping off the bed and dashing into the bathroom. There, in the little basket of toiletries was the sewing kit. Tiny scissors? Check. Thread? Check.

"Harris, what the hell are you up to, now?" Spike asked around a mouthful of chicken wing.

Xander grabbed a piece of paper and waved it with a flourish before folding it into a tiny triangle and starting to chip away at it with the tiny scissors that were getting stuck on his fingers. A minute later, however, he held up a paper snowflake for inspection.

"Ta-da!" Spike looked like he was trying very hard to be aloof, but the effort was utterly wasted when Xander tossed him a notepad and his Swiss army knife. "Think the scissors work better on that thing," he told him, expectantly. Sure enough, Spike wiped his hands on his napkin and a moment later was determinedly making his mark in the world of paper craft. _A Christmas Story_ was on TV and they cut, and swore when the scissors jammed, and proudly unfolded their creations until they were surrounded by drifts of paper triangles and a stack of snowflakes. As Darren McGavin received his major award, Xander strung them around the room.

"Not bad, huh?" He commented, proudly.

Spike nodded, a rare happy smile on his face. "Not bad at all."

* * *

  
_"What sweeter music can we bring  
Than a carol, for to sing  
The birth of this our heavenly King…"_

Spike and Xander lay side by side in the dark, listening intently to the blown speakers on the clock radio piping out the BBC rebroadcast of the King's College Christmas Eve service.

"I didn't get you anything," Xander said.

"Didn't really expect you to," Spike replied. "Wasn't the point."

"I know. Kinda makes me feel like a dick, though."

They lay there quietly as the first lesson was read.

"I think I'm kind of drunk," Xander opined.

"Probably," Spike agreed.

Xander smiled. "I think this might be the best Christmas I've ever had," he admitted, softly.

From beside him in the dark, he heard Spike answer. "Me too. Hush now, like this carol, I do."

_"Lo, how a Rose e'er blooming   
from tender stem hath sprung!   
Of Jesse's lineage coming,   
as those of old have sung.   
It came, a floweret bright,   
amid the cold of winter,   
when half spent was the night…"_

Though Xander would deny it up and down later, he tilted his head to the side in offering and said, "Okay Spike. Have at it. Just this once, though."

Spike propped himself up on his elbow and smiled fondly at Xander. "That's nice of you, pet, but I don't fancy a migraine messin' up this nice evening we've had."

Xander sighed and turned to face Spike's voice. "I don't have anything else to give you."

Spike took his hand where it was tracing the quilting on the bedspread. "Don't have to give me anything else. I burned your house down, remember?"

"I was planning on moving out, anyway." But it did bear the thought. "Maybe you should come with me when I get a place."

Xander couldn't see Spike stiffen beside him, but he did feel his thumb caress the back of his hand.

"Bit soon to be moving in together, don't you think? Haven't had so much as a kiss from you yet."

Warmth spread from his chest outward. Xander leaned over and pressed his lips to Spike's softly. It was slow and sweet and far better than it had any right to be. Xander pulled back gently, breathless.

"Nummy," Spike sighed breathily.

"Told you," Xander teased lightly, maneuvering Spike until his head was on his arm, Xander's arm around his waist. "Merry Christmas, Spike" he whispered into his hair.

Spike shivered and brushed his lips against Xander's throat.

"Happy Christmas, Xander."

_"Silent night, holy night  
All is calm, all is bright  
Round yon Virgin Mother and Child  
Holy Infant so tender and mild  
Sleep in heavenly peace…"_


End file.
